A Cake for Mommy
by Nardhwen-LadyShi
Summary: Little Eleanor wants to do something special for her mother, so she goes to her father for help. A quick one shot I wrote for Mother's Day. Fem Cousland x Alistair.


A Cake for Mommy

Paperwork was never his favorite thing to do, especially when it meant he had to be cooped up in the study for hours on end. But that was his life now. Instead of swinging a sword to battle darkspawn, he used a quilt to sign treaties and formal letters. All meant to keep Ferelden peaceful and help villages still recovering from the Blight. They were in a weakened state, so making friends with other countries and keeping people happy seemed important. Thankfully the scribes did most of the writing, for Maker knew he was not great at it.

He gazed down at the scrolls spread over the heavy cherrywood desk, reaching up to adjust the collar of his fine leather outfit. It was a cool day despite the sun shining through the window behind him. How unfortunate he had remain indoors for the most of it.

A light knock reached his ears, drawing his attention to the door.

"Yes?" He prompted, rolling up one of the scrolls he had been working on.

The door opened and a little girl poked her head in. "Hi Papa!" Eleanor greeted with a tiny smile. "Uhm… May I come in?"

"Yes you may, flower bud," Alistair replied, returning her smile. As much as he disliked some parts of the job, seeing her happy face made it all worth it. "I thought you and your mother were out in the market."

"We were! It was most fun, Papa!" She ran excitedly towards the chair by his desk, her dark blond waves bobbing with every step. The four year old placed her hands on the seat and swung her leg over it, struggling to climb onto it.

Alistair chuckled, giving her a sympathetic look. "Need help, my dear?"

"No Papa," she replied with a huff as she hoisted herself up, climbing on and rolling onto the seat before adjusting her soft pink dress.

"So what did you and Mommy do at the market?" Alistair inquired, leaning forward on his seat.

"We went to many merchants and spoke with a lot of people! I got to try on shiny things and, and I got to pet cute little lambs!"

"Ah that does sound fun." He laughed lightly at her energetic response. "Where's your Mother? I thought she'd be here by now too."

Eleanor's brow furrowed. "Momma said to come to you and left again. She said she had to talk to uhm… gen…tevi?"

He frowned. "Geniviti?"

"Yes!" She nodded.

"Oh…" He gazed down to his clasped hands. Everil had been searching for information on the Calling and a way to extend their life spans for some time now. And although Genitivi's studies focused on the Chantry's lore, if anyone knew where old knowledge could be found, it was he.

"Papa, I've a question."

He returned his attention to her. "Yes?"

She tilted her head with a pout. "When we were in the market, Momma got many gifts from the other kids there. And hugs… too many hugs."

He chuckled. "Is that a hint of jealousy I hear?"

Her brows knotted together. "What is jea-lou-sy?"

"It's when you like something or someone very much and you feel upset when someone else owns it or gets close to them. It's not a nice thing to feel," Alistair explained, a corner of his lip going up.

"Oh…" she frowned. "Uhm I didn't mean to feel that way, Papa. I guess I just want to make Momma smile too."

He gave her a loving look. "You already make her smile, Ellie. Your Mother loves you. Having you makes her happier than anything."

"But I still want to do more. Momma always does things for me. She brushes my hair. She kisses me goodnight. She hugs me," she said, counting with her little fingers.

Alistair smiled warmly at her, finding her desire to make her mother happy utterly adorable. He had to help her and he an idea how. He rose from his chair and set aside his paperwork. He needed a break anyway.

"Come on. Let's go make something for her," he said as he walked around the desk and gently took her tiny hand.

She hopped off from the chair and walked beside him, gazing up at him. "Where are we going, Papa?"

"You'll see," he told her as he opened the door.

xxxxxxx

The castle doors opened as the guards let in a cloaked woman, bowing their heads to her. Carrying books in one arm, she reached up to her hood, sliding it off her head as she crossed the main hall of the palace, her long lilac dress swaying as she walked. She had yet to find a solid lead on a cure to the taint, despite searched since she discovered the existence of the Architect years ago.

 _"I can't give up…"_ She thought stubbornly, her brows meeting at the bridge of her nose. She had to find a cure, no matter the cost. If not for her, then for Alistair and their child. Eleanor needed them both to live and Ferelden needed its king.

Releasing a soft breath, she made for the study, where she knew Alistair would be working. She knocked on the door, but received no response.

"Darling?" Everil called as she entered, only to find his chair empty. She frowned quizzically and stepped out, closing the door.

She went to the throne room, then their room and the training grounds. But there was no sight of neither of them.

"Your Majesty, are you searching for something?" One of the servants asked her as Everil approached her.

"Mira, have you seen my husband and child?" Everil asked.

"Oh I have," the servant answered, smiling lightly at her. "The king and the young princess are in the kitchens, my lady."

Everil lifted a brow. "In the kitchens?"

The servant nodded. "They said they needed to use it. They should still be there, my lady."

"Thank you, Mira," She said and continued down the hallway.

Everil walked towards the servant's wing, wondering what the two were up to. As she neared the kitchens, she could hear Eleanor's giggles echoing through the hall, drawing a smile out of her. Alistair's voice also reached her ears.

"And then it says here you've to pour the milk."

"Like this, Papa?"

"W-wait… I think that was supposed to be just a cup."

"Ah! Sorry!"

"It's all right. Maybe we can just use more flour now?"

Everil listened in, hearing them rummage through things in the kitchen. She was increasingly curious as to what they were doing, but her daughter's giggles made her reluctant to interrupt them. That is until she heard something fall inside and Eleanor squeaked in surprise. Everil opened the door and her eyes grew wide at what she found.

The two of them stared back at her, powdered white. Eleanor stood on a chair with a nearly empty bag of flour in her small arms, while Alistair held a book in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other.

"Oh… there you are, love," he said with a sheepish smile.

"What are you two doing? My poor darling girl..." Everil uttered as she stepped towards Eleanor, producing a handkerchief from her breast to gently wipe the flour off her daughter's puffy cheeks.

"We were… erm... cooking. Sort of," he responded.

"I can see that," Everil said with a curious look. "But why?"

"I wanted to make you smile, Momma," Eleanor told her, gazing up at her with sad eyes.

Everil's brows shot up. "So you were trying to cook something for me?"

She nodded. "Yes, Momma. Papa was helping me make you a cake."

"Aww… My sweet little nug," Ignoring the child's dirty clothes, Everil wrapped her arms around her, embracing her tightly.

Eleanor let her hug her, pressing her cheek to her mother's chest.

"Shall I lend you a hand?" Everil asked as she pulled back, gazing lovingly down at her. " Perhaps the three of us can finish making it."

Eleanor's face brightened, looking up at her mother. "Yes Momma!"

"You were always good at saving the day, my love," Alistair said as he handed Everil the cooking book.

Everil laughed lightly "Well… cooking was never my strong point, but I'm sure we can pull this off together. Let's just try not to burn down the kitchens in the process."

He chuckled and gave her a soft kiss. "Agreed."

Eleanor giggled as they began to work on the batter with her mother's aid. And as Everil helped them, eventually ending up covered in flour herself, she couldn't help but feel her heart swell. She only hoped that her search for cure to the Blight's curse wouldn't ultimately take her away from them. For she did not want to ever miss moments like these.


End file.
